Tough Love (29 page)

“Love you, too, Mom. Goodnight.”

I tried to call Nate, but his line was still busy. I fidgeted around the room while I waited for him to call. Finally, the phone rang.

Nate told me his uncle Bob had had several questions, most along the same lines as my mom, but others were different. He was a bit worried we hadn’t known each other long enough, but he also felt our relationship was strong, so he gave his blessing.

“What about your mom?” Nate asked. “Did she?”

“Yep, pretty much. But you still have to ask my dad, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” he sighed. “How do you think that’ll go?”

“Based on the summer you two had together, I think it’ll be just fine.”

And it was. Nate talked with Dad about it one evening when we were at my house during fall break. They were outside working on Nate’s after-the-accident-car, a late 80’s model Chevy Celebrity while Mom and I waited in the kitchen. I knew they were talking because I could see their breath in the cold evening air, but I had no idea what Nate and my dad were saying.

My heartbeat picked up speed as I watched them walk toward the house together. This was one of the moments I had pictured my whole life. I just knew it would be like something out of Hollywood-Nate would express his love for me to my dad and they would hug, maybe even shed a couple tears together. I could not wait to ask Nate what had happened, what was said. I wanted every detail.

“Well hi,” I smiled when they walked into the kitchen. “Do you fellas want some hot chocolate?”

“I’d love some,” Nate said.

“Maybe when I get back from the restroom,” Dad told us.

I put the tea kettle on and turned to Nate.

“Well?” I asked. “What did he say?”

He laughed. “Do you really want to know?”

“Well, now I’m not so sure. Why are you laughing?”

He stepped toward me and put his arms around my waist. “It’s nothing bad, just funny. I asked him if he’d give us his blessing and he said, ‘
Go ask her mother
.’ He cracks me up!”

Mom and I looked at each other and both rolled our eyes.

“What did you say then?” Mom wanted to know.

Nate looked at my mom. “I told him Janessa was talking to you, and that I was supposed to get
his
blessing, not yours. No offense.”

“None taken,” Mom smiled. “So now that it’s official, I guess we have a wedding to plan.”

“Yes, we do!” I said and hugged Nate tight.

Our engagement was very short, six weeks to be exact. Nate proposed on November 11, 1995, inside the Ceylon Covered Bridge close to his hometown. We were married December 23.

My mom had a friend selling a diamond from her first engagement ring, which we bought and had mounted in a setting. It was small but gorgeous, and my heart swelled every time I looked at it. I was able to find a tea-length wedding dress in a Lane Bryant catalog for under $100, while my veil was made by my aunt Ruthie. The boys, including Nate, all got new suits to wear in the wedding.

Leading up to the ceremony, Nate and I spent several days in and around Bryant getting every component ready. The flowers, which were done by the parents of Nate's best friend Jay, had to be picked up in Portland, Indiana. We also had to meet with the pastor, a family friend of Nate's mom, and go to the courthouse for our license. It was a busy but exciting time in our lives.

Our wedding itself was quite traditional. Each of my brothers sang a song, we lit a unity candle and used the same time-honored vows millions of couples before us had. The Poneto Baptist Church was not fancy, but it was the backdrop for our day, and we made memories that would last a lifetime.

Six months later, Nate graduated with a Bachelor's degree in Accounting from Valpo. He had accepted a job offer two months prior, which allowed us to move from his studio, basement apartment into a real one-bedroom. We stayed there for two years while I finished my education and worked part-time.

I was blessed to be hired as a special education teacher right out of college, and it wasn’t long before we bought our first house in the summer of 1999.

It felt like all of my dreams had come true.

JUST AFTER BREAKFAST on the first day of the new year—the new millennium—the phone rang. I froze, staring at Nate across the dining room table. I was afraid to answer it.

Knowing whoever it was would hang up if we didn't get to it in time, Nate jumped up and grabbed the receiver.

“Hello... just a second.” He looked at me.

“It's her,” he whispered.

I swallowed hard, held out my hand and closed my eyes.

“Hello?” I asked.

“Ness. He's gone,” she said.

And I hung my head and cried.

EVERY MOMENT HAS the chance to change our lives. Each choice we make can shape our destinies. The decisions I made in my youth could have had devastating consequences, but our Lord had a bigger purpose for me.

And so here I sit, having celebrated almost twenty years of marriage to Nate, and the birth of our daughter nine years ago, with a story to tell--a story I use to teach other young ladies to be smart, to be careful.

I believe there is a reason for everything, especially for those experiences we have that are tumultuous. Why did I have to go through all this? To stop one–just one–young girl from making these same mistakes. In that, I shall find my purpose.

When I was a teenager in the late 80’s and early 90’s, I loved reading CD jackets. I would put the CD in the stereo, sit cross-legged on my bed and devour every word the artist had written about the people he or she wanted to thank. I always wondered if they ever forgot someone and decided if I ever got the chance to do something similar, I would put the following words in my thank you notes: Please know if your name should be written here but isn’t, blame my head and not my heart, for that is where the memories stay alive.

To the Butterfield and Swan families: Who would I be without you? You have shaped me into the woman I am today. Many of you traveled this journey with me while it was happening, but you never gave up. I am eternally grateful for your love and support.

To my teachers at Toledo Public Schools: It truly does take a village, and I’m privileged to have you as part of mine. Thank you for nurturing me during my schooling years. Mrs. Curran, thank you for taking me to lunch at Frisch’s that fateful day; I still have the necklace.

To the original members of A Writer’s Block – Tawdra, Deana, Andrea, Stacie, and Mandie: I still remember the day I stumbled upon the forum asking, “Anyone else interested in writing a book?” Thank you for the limitless ideas, tips, fixes, and criticisms throughout the years.
Tough Love
started with you at the end of 2008; I hope you enjoy the finished product.

To the teams at PBT and Hayson – Thank you for helping this dream come true. I am so appreciative for your patience and dedication through this entire process.

Stephanie Nelson – I could not ask for a better cover on my first book! Thanks for being so patient when I was unsure of which way to go. You’re amazing!

Stacey Blake – Thanks for an awesome job formatting Tough Love. It’s beautiful!

To my friends Tonia, Earl, Buffy, Suzie, Jodi, Amy, Julie, Rachael, Krissy, Priscilla, Sacha, Janet, and Christy: Thank you for your faith in me. Each of you helped me remember who I was during this time and waited patiently until I returned to her.

To my families at LHS (staff, students and alumni) and IBC in Lebanon, TN: Thank you for accepting and loving me “just as I am”. I am a better teacher, mother, wife and Christian after having been blessed by you over the past several years. I miss you already.

To Halen: God has truly blessed me with you as my daughter. I love you ten-thousand eighty-five ninety hundred!

Finally to Matt: You are my life. You’ve shown me love that I thought happened only in fairy tales. Thank you for being my inspiration and drive to keep going and for giving me countless hours to chase this crazy dream. I love you…with all my heart!